Insecure

I'm trying so hard not to be jealous of women that have the perfect pregnancy and birth. I feel victimized and traumatized from my first birth and I feel lied to from my second. Why can I not get over these things. It's so hard NOT to be the victim yet the more I educate myself on these things the angrier I get. There is, however, a good outcome to educating myself. I have hope that next time will be different. If there is a next time... Thinking that my time for babies has come to an end is such a depressing thought for me. I don't want to be done. I had planned for at least 3-4 children. What happened? I barely carried one. One. Mikah. I should be happy with him, but some days I feel I need a do over.

 As healing as Mikah's birth was for me, it wasn't all sunshine and daisies. Mikah's birth was healing in the fact that he came home to me instead of the NICU and I didn't almost die with infections. The first few weeks of his life were not easy. I still suffered from PPD and PTSD from Ein so all that anxiety from the 35 weeks I tried to stay pregnant with Mikah and the depression from my first experience came crashing in as soon as we got home. As if it wasn't enough my body couldn't sustain him without medical intervention, my body couldn't be his source of food either. Because he was early he wasn't strong enough to feed for very long. Knowing what I do know about breastfeeding now, I know that if I would have fed him on demand like I initially wanted and had I ignored every one's discomfort at me nursing in public, we might still have a healthy relationship to this day. Still, because of my doubt and high anxiety, the remarks and comments I had expected myself to easily brush off actually sealed the deal in breastfeeding.

 So, my failed breastfeeding relationship just gave my crappy self-esteem room to move a little lower. I cried probably every day the first 2 months fighting off the thoughts of hopelessness and deeming myself a worthless mother. You had one job as a mother, to feed him, and you can't even do that. At least with Ein you had an excuse. He was in the NICU and you had to pump. Mikah is right here at your breast. Feed him! Worthless. Yea, needless to say, I was not a friend to myself.

 I remember sometimes I would check Facebook to see who I might could talk to about these feelings, but I was embarrassed and scared. I'm just being foolish. If I take a walk I'll feel better. If  I tell someone, they might take Mikah away from me! So instead, I took pictures of Mikah like crazy. Just to capture that moment of happiness I felt so I could look back at it when having a rough day and remember that and tell myself, "see, you were happy there. It can happen again." No one tells you that you might not love your baby everyday, or love yourself everyday, but it does happen.

 Though I haven't had an ideal pregnancy, birth, or bond with my son, I love him more than anything and would do anything for him. Just having these mental illnesses and daily struggles with them make it harder for me to realize that I deserve him. If I never have another child, I hope that I can finally be okay with just Mikah, because he deserves that much. He is more than good enough for me and I'm trying desperately to be good enough for him.